The day of New Moons
by JD Lance
Summary: Multi Chap (Many different oneshots on one topic) :A traditional Galalunian holiday about new hope and family, the day of New Moons. Various characters from SBT and their stories of the holiday and the war has affected it. DISCLAIMER: I do not own Sym-Bionic Titan.
1. The King

King Fredrick strolled the broken halls of his once great palace, stone and rubble lay everywhere. The elegant fabrics and plants slowly deteriorating. Modula had allowed him to move about freely in a designated section of the palace which was closed off enough to prevent him from escaping. He walked past the doors that once lead into his subject's rooms, which were now just broken furniture and rubble. The entire palace had been looted by Modula's supporters. Fredrick strolled past one particular room that caught his attention, he decided to enter it.

Pushing open the tall, green, red, and golden doors, he entered the large room. A tattered bed was in the center with the rotting wood floors that had been exposed to the weather from the open doors of the balcony outside. The old man made his way to the open balcony and gazed off at his destroyed kingdom, smoke rising from the streets; most of the buildings had been wrecked, and long forgotten. His people scurried through the alley ways, scavenging for whatever food or shelter they could possible find as the Mutraddi guards wondered through the roads.

After taking as much as he could possible handle, he walked back inside and closed the duel glass doors to the balcony and covered them with the torn red curtains. He sat down on the bed, and looked around at the broken chairs and tables. The dresses and shoes, all laying scattered on the floor, forgotten. He picked up several pieces of jewelry that were set on a cracked bedside table._ Heart, Body, and Mind, unite as one. _It was one of his family crest necklaces, he was not surprised the jewel wasn't taken, the symbol was shunned by all after the fall of the kingdom.

Fredrick tucked away the metal in his shredded coat, and stroked his ruffled, white beard. Shattered picture frames were fallen to the floor; he picked one up and set it back on the wall, looking longingly at it. A smiling teenage girl sat in front of the shining city, before it was attacked. The old King wearily bent down, groaning in pain to pick up another and placed it beside the picture of the girl. It was a boy roughly the same age as the girl standing next to a middle aged woman. The boy was tall and confident, his shiny red uniform blazing in the sun. Short blonde hair sticking up in the back, sword at his side.

The woman was wearing a beautiful orange dress and looked very proud next to the boy. Fredrick put his hand on the picture. "My love, my son… I miss you." He whispered, his wife and son who had both died long ago, he looked back at the girl's photo. "My darling girl… Ilana…" He stared longingly at the photographs of his family members. "One day our family will be together again. My princess… my son… my queen…"

He placed the medallion in between the portraits. "Heart, body, and mind… unite as one…" The old man said before silently weeping. "One day… my darlings…"


	2. The Hero

"Lance, come on, today's a special day…" Ilana said, tugging at her guardian's hand, which he quickly pulled away and shoved into his pocket.

"What?" He asked uninterested, sitting down on the couch in their living room in Sherman, Illinois.

"Do you know what day it is?"

"Saturday?" He asked.

"No, the day of New Moons… Octus said after the number of days since we left Galaluna, that it should be around now." Ilana chirped. "After the homecoming dance went so poorly… I figure we could just have a little celebration to ourselves, I mean… they don't celebrate it on Earth, but such an important tradition would be a shame to miss."

Lance took a moment to take it in, the day of New Moons was the Galalunian festival equal to new year's and Thanksgiving, it celebrated the full cycle of the moons and was a time where people gathered with family and friends and rejoicing on all of life's pleasures and such… Lance was never one to celebrate such an event. "No, sorry, I have things to do." He said, standing up and heading out the front door and getting in his silver Cadillac.

Lance drove down town through town for around an hour, looking for something to do until stopping at a local street fair and getting out to walk around. There were canopies set up with food and games, children ran through the crowded streets filled with adults talking with drinks in hand. Lance noticed a man leaning against a wall with an acoustic guitar, strumming a rejoice-full tune. Two little girls and a little boy were next to him, they looked sad and hungry. A sign at his feet read: _Homeless, three kids. Anything helps._

Lance approached the man and handed him a hundred dollar bill, he always carried money, considering Octus could print it. "Hey… this'll get dinner set." He said, giving the man the money.

"Thank you… young man… bless you, sir… bless you!" The homeless man exclaimed, getting up to hug Lance. The usually reserved Lance Lunis would have pushed him away, but he didn't. He returned with a pat on the man's back, and waited for him to recede. The man looked at him with a happy face, he had a round nose, short black hair and deep brown eyes. He smiled at Lance, who with surprise returned. "Come on kids, let's go get a nice dinner."

"Have a good night, sir." Lance said.

"We will, thank you, stranger… what is your name?"

"Lance Lunis."  
"Thank you, Lance… my kids haven't had a proper meal in weeks."

"There's a shop up the street, cook a very excellent chicken." Lance directed, the man said his farewells and headed up to find the restaurant. The young man felt a warm feeling in his chest as the children ran up the street, laughing with their father.

Lance walked down the streets, the sun had gone down and the yellow lights lining the sides of the buildings and tents illuminated the fair. The roar of people's conversations filled the air, suddenly filled by screams and panic. Lance looked around with alertness for the cause. A woman was struggling with a man dressed in a dark black hoodie, he pushed her to the floor and grabbed her purse, then ran off.

Some men helped the woman up, an entire crowd watched the criminal run with the stolen bag. Lance's blood boiled, and he sprinted after him at full speed. Being in the Galalunian military for the majority of his life, he could run quite fast, and was able to catch up, despite his head start. Lance leaped forward and tackled the thief, knocking him to the ground.

Without hesitation, he sent a single punch to the man's face, and got up off of the ground. The crook stood up and raised his fists for a fight. Lance grinned and returned stance, his opponent was foolish enough to make first strike. A forward punch aimed at Lance's face, the young soldier raised his arm and blocked the attack, then used his other arm to strike his ribs.

As the man in black fell back, he sent a series of quick blows at his body. Then spun around in a circle, gaining momentum, and then kicking the thief to the ground. A group of middle aged men and an elderly man came up and held the downed criminal to the floor as the surrounding crowd cheered on Lance, who picked up the purse from the floor and handed it to the woman. "Young man, thank you… I was shopping here with my sister, I have a lot of money in here." She said, pulling out a few bills. "Here, it's the least I could do." She handed him a few hundred dollars.

"No, I couldn't accept that, Ma'am." Lance said, modestly. The woman smiled and put the money away, and the crowd cheered.

"Way to go, kid!"

"See, there's a hero for you!"

"Good to see our youths haven't evolved into sloths! Good job, son!" A smile appeared on the soldiers face, as the surrounding people shouted complements and encouragements.

"What's your name, young hero?"

"Lance Lunis." He responded simply, waving her goodbye and walking away. Lance stopped by a music stand and bought a shiny new guitar and a plate of freshly baked cookies from a nearby bakery. He found his way back to his car. He noticed a little girl sobbing in the parking lot, an ice cream cone spilled all over the floor. Pink, strawberry ice cream melting all over the pavement. He looked at the girl as she mourned her loss. Lance walked over to the ice cream truck nearby where the girl must have bought it from. "One strawberry ice cream cone, please." Lance said, placing the money on the counter.

"You got it, for yourself?" The truck owner asked.

"For the little girl." He said, pointing to the girl, still crying.

"You're a good kid." The man smiled. "On the house."

"No, no I insist." Lance pushed back the money to the man. "We all got to pay rent, tax is getting ridiculous."

"Well, I hear you there, brother. Hey have a good night." He said, handing him a pink cone of ice cream.  
"Thanks." Lance headed over to the girl and crouched next to her. "No need to cry… here." He handed her the ice cream. The little girl whipped her nose and dried her eyes, then took the ice cream and carefully licked it. The soldier managed a smile and looked around for the girl's parents. "Where are your parents?"

The little girl only pointed to a couple walking towards them. "I saw what you did, that was a good thing you did there. I tip my hat to you, son." The girl's father said, shaking Lance's hand.

"No problem, sir."

"What's your name?" The mother asked.

"Lance Lunis." He responded. "Have a good night." He said, walking over to his car and getting in, driving away from the fair. After an hour drive or so, Lance found himself in the woods where they had originally landed when they first came to Earth. He got out of the car and wondered through the woods until he found the cave where he had originally wanted to set up fort.

He gazed off into the bright city lights and sat down on a rock and pulled out the box of cookies, munching down on one. He set down his new guitar, it's sleek, cherry red wood body shining in the dark. From a bag he'd brought from his car, he pulled out a black picture frame and set it down on a nearby rock and lit some candles next to it.

He glanced at his watch. 2:00 AM. He smiled, and started strumming his guitar softly, singing a soft melody to himself.

_The days are long, and the weeks grow longer._

_My heart grows weak, but I get stronger._

_Every day I think of you, see you in my dreams._

_Wish that you could see me now, so you'd be proud of me._

He sat motionless, staring at the city lights. A single tear escaping from his eye, the otherwise emotionless soldier sat in silence. "Out of all the people I saved today… why couldn't I have saved you?" He picked up his guitar and stared at the cracked picture frame of himself and his father. "Happy birthday, dad."


	3. The Spirit

Ilana sulked in her room, the day of New Moons was supposed to be a time of family and new hope. Lance had left, and Octus had left to be with Kimmy. She knew it was stupid to celebrate a holiday that wasn't even recognized on this planet, but she wanted to show her guardians how much they meant to her. That they were family.

She only wanted to show her loyal protectors how much they meant to her, and show them that they still had hope, despite the fact that Mutraddi beasts were still being sent to destroy them, so the war couldn't be in a very good position. Ilana just needed to convince them to keep up hope, and maybe convince herself too.

It was nearly three o'clock in the morning, Ilana wouldn't be awake, except that she couldn't help but think of home. How on this day, she used to walk the streets of her people of the noble planet of Galaluna. The prosperous city filled with the townsfolk frolicking about their daily routines, her father by her side as they traveled to the newest festival. His strong, kind nature watching over her.

She missed the laughter of her people… the warm Galalunian air… the smells of the bakeries, and the lights that were cast over the city as the sun went down and the three moons rose. She missed her father, and his subjects, her guards, her mistresses, her friends, her guardian Hobbes. Even the grouchy clean up staff, she missed them too. She missed her room, and her bed, and the palace food, and her paintings, and the Galalunian music, and her carriage. Ilana sobbed to herself, gazing at the snow globe that depicted a royal palace like home that Lance had given her.

She looked around in the small, Earth room that she was in. It was comfortable, and she'd made it as much like home as possible, but it wasn't the same. Some morning she'd wake up and open the doors to her balcony, expecting to see the vast plain of white wash buildings that she loved gazing at. But realizing she was on an entirely different planet after seeing only a few neighborhood houses in front of her.

By accident, she'd called Octus _daddy _several times, and made several well jokes with Lance like she used to with Hobbes, because it seemed almost by fate that whenever there was a well, something would fall down it and she'd be compelled to get it. Lance never understood, and she just turned away. It wasn't that she didn't like Lance, he was strong, and sweet, but he wasn't Hobbes. Not the gentle, but protective man she'd grown up with since she was six.

Tears running down her eyes, she curled up in her bed. She wished she didn't tell Octus he could go, or that Lance had stayed. She didn't want to be alone; she needed to talk to somebody. The day of New Moons was supposed to be about restoring hope and being with family. She didn't feel hopeful.

Growing up as the King's daughter, she'd always had to be strong and inspire. Inspire people to hope, to do that she had to hope, or at least make it look like she did. Whenever it got hard, she had to pull through for everyone else. But she needed inspiration too; she needed comfort, and strength. Lance was the only person alive who could give that to her, and he was who knows where. Ilana didn't have any hope left, they were losing the war, she'd been exiled and her father and her people were fallen at the feet of the Mutraddi, while she was hiding away from them, like a coward.

If her father was alive or not, she knew not… she could only hope he was. She was sick of that word, hope was not real, it was only a way to convince yourself it will be alright, even if you knew it wouldn't be. After a few hours of crying to herself, a few hours of homesickness and pain, she heard the front door unlock, and the tip tap of boots on the hardwood floor.

Someone walked upstairs and gently knocked on her door, she decided not to respond. Maybe G3, Mutraddi, or Steel had come to kidnap her. Good, then it could all be over. The door opened, and Lance poked his head in, his black hair masking him in the dark. "Ilana… why are you awake?"

"Where have you been?" She asked softly, wiping tears from her eyes.

"I went out… you should get some sleep, it's late." He came closer and sat down on the bed next to her, he noticed her tears and immediately became concerned. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing…"

"Don't lie, what's the matter?" He stared at her with his deep, black eyes. She gave in after a moment.

"I miss home…" She said softly, more tears coming out. She buried her face into Lance's shoulder; he put his arms around her back. "Today was supposed to be a day of family, and of hope… but I've been alone all day, and every day I'm supposed to be strong, this fight just seems even more pointless… Just, what would happen if we gave up? If we just went to the Mutraddi and surrendered?"

"You cannot give up hope; hope is the only thing some people have."

"Hope in a desire for a better future, but what does that do if there just isn't a better time up ahead?"

"There never will be if you stop trying." Lance said sternly. "I know… you want to be home, I do too… but I also know that as long as you are alive, the people of Galaluna will keep fighting, and we just might have a chance at victory."

"But hope won't do anything if we just can't win."

"Ilana… I've seen a lot of battles, and if there is one thing I've learned… if an army doesn't have a reason to fight, if they don't believe in their hearts that there is a reason to fight, or a chance to win. Then the war is already lost… the Mutraddi may control our world, but as long as the people keep their spirit… the will to fight, then they still have a chance. Hope is the desire for a better future, but spirit is the courage to stand up and fight for the it." Ilana sat motionless. "We do our part, by giving our people a reason to fight. That's more than we could contribute to on the battle field."

"But… this all seems so pointless… I always have to stay strong for my people, but…"

"Ilana, you are not strong, neither am I. Not anyone, truly… we all breakdown, and we all have limits… but true spirit, is when we get back up after we fail, and keep going despite our weakness and carry on." Lance gazed into Ilana's soft eyes. "I don't know if we'll win this war or not. But if we don't keep trying, our answer will be certain."

"You're… you're right…" Ilana said, letting Lance's advice sink in. She wished he'd talk like this more often, instead of his usual antisocial, reserved behavior. She looked at the snow globe on her bedside table. If she ever wanted to see that again, she'd have to do more than just hope for it. She'd have to keep fighting to get back home, to save her home. And to sit on her balcony and see the prosperous kingdom once again, next to her father and Hobbes, and Lance. The day of new moons was no longer a day a renewed hope, but renewed spirit, and she would be the spirit of Galaluna.


	4. The General

He had taken control of the entire planet, slayed all of the royal officials who did not swear absolute loyalty to home. Ransacked the entire capital city, destroyed the Galalunian military and converted it to his own personal fighting force. He dethroned the old King, and took his palace. He dined in his halls, and he lived in his palace and his gardens… but he wasn't satisfied.

The gap that he thought would be sealed by taming the uncontrollable anger, and having his revenge did not satisfy him. He thought after he made all of the people he hated pay for what they did, that he would feel… complete… but he did not. All of this did not fill the emptiness that had been left ever since the mission to Mutrad where he was left behind. Modula had been abandoned by his own men, and his closest friend, King Fredrick, the man he used to serve.

He'd been forced to live amongst the beasts and survive only off of his military training and quick wits. They were heading down to a Mutraddi council to negotiate peace terms, when they were ambushed. Their gunship shot to the ground, in the chaos Modula was knocked off of the ship, along with a few others. One of them, his only son.

A Mutraddi blast was sent at him, a deadly beam, and he was going to die. But he was saved, his only son dove in front of the beam and saved him, but he died moments later. Modula held his beloved boy as he grey cold in his arms, watching helplessly as his jaw went slack and his eyes rolled up. He and three other soldiers were left on the ground as the Galalunian fleet retreated. One of them was Fredrick's firstborn son, the sole heir to the throne. He was shot down directly after Modula's son, Valence. The only other descendant the King had was his daughter, but she was not fit to rule.

They cried out for the gunships to pick them up, but they never did. He was forced to watch them leave, ascending into the sky, leaving him and the others behind. For many harsh years, they had only their wits to survive in the harsh wilderness of Mutrad. Over time, Modula's fellow survivors died off, leaving him alone. Jamison Varus, the father of the military academy's second finest recruit, Baron Varus, died at the claws of a Mutraddi beast.

Admiral Isaiah Marrow died of an infection to his leg after a serious wound. And a foot soldier, Private Aston Valrico was mauled by Mutraddi pack wolves. And Modula was left alone, to fend for himself. For years, he waited for a fleet to come and rescue him, but they never did. Those years forever changed him, watching his new closest friends be killed in the savage, merciless wasteland.

Modula walked down the halls and made his way to one of the many balconies that overlooked the city. How he'd missed the city. "Well… my son. We finally did it, didn't we?" Modula asked, he turned his head to the side. A handsome young man with short brown hair stood next to him, he wore an elegant red combat jacket and leaned against the rails. "Do you like it? I've done all of his for you, Valence…"

"Yes, father… it's wonderful… mother would be proud." His son said, turning to face his father. Modula's anger suddenly eased as he looked into his son's soft blue eyes.

"Yes… yes, my lovely wife would be very proud…" Modula said.

"I am proud." A woman with beautiful blonde hair said, leaning against the white walls of the palace. "Proud of you, my husband… and of you, my son."

"Sarabeth… I thought you were dead…" Modula asked, staring at the woman he hadn't seen in over ten years. She looked exactly the same as he remembered her.

"Come, my husband…" She urged, walking backwards into the room.

"Yes father, come…" His son said, standing next to his mother. They both backed away into the palace.

"Wait. Please…" Modula pleaded, he rushed back inside. But only found an empty room. The old general stood alone in the dark room, he took off his hat, revealing his weary, tired eyes, and sat down on a nearby chair. "Why must your visits be so brief?" Modula asked, tears running down his white beard.

"Dad, hurry up." Valence's voice rang through the air, but was nowhere to be seen.

"Where, my son?" Modula asked joyfully. He saw his wife and son standing in the room; he walked towards them, and saw their gentle faces again. The old man was comforted and warm, he smiled and walked towards them. Strangely, for the first time in years he felt complete. He knew that both his son and wife had been dead for years, but he saw them. He could see them, and he was happy.

General Modula gazed into the eyes of his beloved, not caring about anything in the entire galaxy but them. He heard a soft pop, then his vision went black.


	5. The Guardian

Hobbes waited patiently on top of the roof of a Galalunian building near the royal palace. He double checked, triple checked everything, calculated wind and air pressure. Estimated distance, and checked escape routes and kept an eye on Mutraddi soldiers occupying the area.

For the past few years since the invasion, he couldn't shake the feeling that he'd failed. He'd failed his duties to protect Princess Ilana, who was forced into hiding on some faraway planet. Whenever a flash of light appeared in the sky, usually one or two a month, Modula was sending another monster to hunt her down. The girl he knew was strong, and she'd been defeating everything the betrayer had to send her way. But she wasn't invincible, Hobbes knew this, he was her body guard after all.

His plan was to assassinate Modula so he could send no more beasts to attack her; this would be his final service to Ilana. So she would be safe. And Modula would die, and they would have a decent chance of taking back Galaluna. Hobbes unpacked his shiny silver sniper rife that himself and a few other rebels had managed to take from the palace armory.

Looking down the scope, Hobbes scanned the windows of the palace until he found the traitor inside, he aligned his crosshairs and held his weapon steady. "Spirit of the moons, I live to liberate your chosen people. I live to serve, to protect… and to kill. Send my bullet into the skull of our enemy, and let him fall… so that the great nation may once again rise. Today I kill; for the people, for the fallen, for the King, for the Princess." Hobbes took aim and pulled the trigger. Several other rebels gathered around the sharpshooter. "He's dead."


	6. The Robot

"Introducing the finest chug master of Illinois history! Class's smartest, mad finger skilled Newton who is also my bestest friend!" Meat, Newton/Octus' dimwitted friend announced to the small crowd of spectators at the house party Kimmy had invited the robot to. Newton got one and a half cheers, and began chugging his soda.

Analyzing his replicated organs that allowed him to digest food, he redirected the intake of carbon and oxygen… or _burp bubbles _as Meat called it, and released the gathered gasses out of his mouth simulation. Kimmy, cheered him on and gaze him a hug, almost managing to grasp her arms around his circumference.

"Yeah, hugs!" Meat screamed, squeezing both Newton and Kimmy as hard as he could. "I got the feels, bro… I got the feels!"

"Uhg, Meat… what did we talk about personal space?" Kimmy asked.

"Ummm… don't hug for more than three seconds, don't hug without permission… um… hugging people I don't know isn't okay… don't go near Kimmy after PE class." Meat recited proudly.

"And?" Kimmy asked patiently.

"Don't be a weirdo."

"Very good, Meat." Newton congratulated.

"Yes! Meat is very smart." The less intelligent jock said happily. Octus didn't know what he felt, but watching Kimmy and meat just made him happy. The fact that he could be with such fascinating humanoids and go home to see equally as great ones was extraordinary. For a robot, he was very thankful and happy for his new family on Earth.

* * *

**Sorry, that was just an excuse to bring in Meat, my favorite SBT character... BTW i learned to use the line thingies!**

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**YAAAYY! still expect the **

**. . . 's**

**though.**


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